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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129995">Aftercare</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia'>cyanideinsomnia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bonding, Complicated Relationships, Fluff without Plot, Friends With Benefits, Hair Braiding, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Pre-Red Plague (The Arcana), continuing the tradition of making these assholes be cute, for no good goddamn reason</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:21:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What /are/ you doing?”</p><p>Lucio paused, voice quiet when he finally answered him, as if he was ashamed of it. “I wanna braid your hair.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lucio/Valerius (The Arcana)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aftercare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i finished this instead of sleeping when i went to take a nap, here u go</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Valerius lazily reclined against the Count in his bed, warm, tired and content.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had been going at it like rabbits all afternoon, a sort of soothing balm for Lucio's wounded pride from this morning’s meeting. Some young upstart dignitary kept interrupting and shutting down the Count at each turn, loudly providing their own ridiculous misinformation, and the Countess merely watched, allowing him to suffer this humiliation much longer than even he deserved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t bother to remember their name - given their behavior, they likely wouldn’t be too much longer for this world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio had still been angry when he’d cornered him, with a kiss that felt like knives against his lips and a hissed threat of bodily harm if he gave him any trouble, either. The threat was hollow, it always was, but he’d taken him hard enough that he hardly knew if he could move now, legs numb, body aching, little more than an additional pillow in the other man’s grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Consul had started drifting off when he felt the familiar plucking of fingers in his hair, now a loose disordered mess across his shoulders, more insistent than a simple idle stroking, occasionally tugging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it wasn’t for the ostentatious red and gold surrounding him and the ache in his hips, he would have almost thought it was his servants tending to him in his estate, though a bit </span>
  <em>
    <span>rougher </span>
  </em>
  <span>than he was accustomed to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt nice, oddly enough, but he’d had quite enough of </span>
  <em>
    <span>tugging </span>
  </em>
  <span>just now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me you intend to mount me again,” He groaned. “There </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>such a thing as too much of a good thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, there isn’t. You’re making that up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The plucking and tugging continued, but the Count made no move from his spot on the bed, indicating that this was not a request for another round. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio paused, voice quiet when he finally answered him, as if he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ashamed </span>
  </em>
  <span>of it. “I wanna braid your hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lying down?” Valerius snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“.. I wanted it to be a surprise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the sulky tone, he chuckled. “You know how I feel about </span>
  <em>
    <span>surprises</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Especially yours. Think of it this way, I’ve spared us both a blazing row.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment he slowly began to disentangle himself from Lucio's arms, slow and leisurely to make sure he knew he wasn’t trying to outright escape, wincing as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little clumsy half-twisted strand of hair fell down within his view with the rest of his messy locks, easily unraveling before he’d gotten a good look at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span>, do it properly.” He said, finally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? You’ll let me--?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve made me rather incapable of going anywhere else for the time being, I suppose I can indulge you a bit longer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a flurry of squeaking springs as the Count moved straight from lying beside him to on his feet next to the bed, bounding across the bedroom to his boudoir, collecting a small basket of grooming implements. “You’re not gonna regret it, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that so? Do you have</span>
  <em>
    <span> experience</span>
  </em>
  <span> in these matters?” The Consul mused as Lucio bounded right back and flopped down behind him on the bed, setting the basket aside before scooting in very close, the warmth of his thighs surrounding him both soothing and distracting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself drawn to gently stroke those thighs, especially as he heard the other man fall still again. “Uh. Yeah. I have</span>
  <em>
    <span> loads </span>
  </em>
  <span>of experience. I used to braid mine all the time when it was longer. Helps keep it out of the way on the battlefield, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you considered growing it out again?” He recognized that tone of utter bullshit, but he chose to ignore it for the moment. “I would like to see that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I don’t wanna make Noddy jealous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, pity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hands were in his hair again, moving slow and unsure, as if he was scared he was going to damage it. As if he’d had that consideration earlier, grasping fistfuls of it and yanking back. His scalp was a bit tender, though, so he made no comment on the change of pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A brush carefully navigated the budding tangles from that earlier rough treatment, a glint of pristine white and gold in the corner of his eye. Given Lucio's attachment to his </span>
  <em>
    <span>things, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he supposed he should feel honored he was using his personal hairbrush for this. One possession grooming another. Everything in its proper order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew the answer to this before he asked it, given their relationship outside the bedroom. “Has the Countess ever been given this, ah, fine treatment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know damn well she doesn’t want me anywhere near her hair.” That quick yank was probably deserved. “I tried it once, but she said I don’t-- I was too rough. I guess she expected the delicate hands of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>prince</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, there was a bit of hurt in that statement. He wondered if she’d called his hands those of a barbarian instead, given how they were trembling with effort to remain soft now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno what her problem is. I’d let her brush and braid </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> hair if it was like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand trailed lazily along his captor's left thigh, tracing his fingers along the old, pale scar across the width of it, feeling Lucio shiver under his own admittedly delicate touch. The difference in their hands, one born into luxury and the other having fought for it, was just noticeable enough it kept him coming back for more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For what it's worth," Valerius mused, gently patting that leg. "I prefer </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> handsome princes to come from tougher stock."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're just saying that because you're still high on good dick." His prince snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A very undignified noise escaped him before he could stop it, eliciting an equally undignified snicker behind him. Oh, all the luxury in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span> would not stop him from being such a crude little cretin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he didn't enjoy that, as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do appreciate the softer touch, however. It wouldn't hurt to take such delicacy in other</span>
  <em>
    <span>, </span>
  </em>
  <span>more </span>
  <em>
    <span>diplomatic</span>
  </em>
  <span> matters."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Watch it," Lucio grunted, reminding him that his pride was still as sore as his own ass. "I'm diplomatic as hell."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Consul cleared his throat and softened his voice, effortlessly slipping into a more ass-kissing sort of tone. "Ah, yes, my deepest apologies, Your Excellency. You are a genius of diplomacy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"S'better." He still sounded a bit sulky. He may have laid it on too thick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a brief moment the room was silent, likely due to the Count focusing that much harder on his task. He could feel his hair being wound into clumsy loops, but with all the care of a master hairdresser. He could faintly hear him muttering to himself, what sounded like some kind of childish mnemonic, a few curses thrown in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he got down far enough, he felt the warmth of his right hand against his back, gently nudging him forward. "Lean your head down a little-- yeah, like that. I think I've got it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One more anxious tug, and then he let it drop, shifting against him to pull a golden-framed hand mirror from the basket, which he leaned over him to put in front of both of them -- although initially it was facing Lucio more than it was Valerius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit, hang on," He watched the Count's reflection quickly swipe a dark pencil across one brow he hadn't noticed was amiss, before the mirror turned towards him to inspect. "How does it look?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Valerius ignored the anxious silver eyes at the edge of his reflection in order to look over his handiwork, bringing the length of it around his shoulders in full view. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was of course nothing like the daily braiding from his servants, and he hadn't expected as much... although he wasn't sure if he had expected this much of a chaotic mess. The loops were uneven, thick and thin mashed together, sprigs of hair hanging loose from some of them like sprouted weeds, countless flyaways dotting the length of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole thing looked as if it would unravel if he tugged on it, barely any tension at all, held together in theory by the crooked little golden ribbon at the end. He looked like he'd slept in his proper braid, with his head <em>under</em> the pillows, or perhaps sacked out in some alleyway in South End like a filthy commoner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn't realized the expression he was making - a disgusted grimace - until he caught sight of it in the mirror, and the flash of pain in the eyes behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't like it." Lucio sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-- well-- it isn't to my taste, that's all. That doesn't mean it's bad." It was awful. "It's just loose, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>messy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mirror wordlessly sank back out of sight, and he was pretty sure he was making that </span>
  <em>
    <span>kicked dog</span>
  </em>
  <span> expression behind him, furrowed brows and a deep pout that was infuriating as much as it was endearing. "I just wanted to do something nice for you, damn it. Stop having </span>
  <em>
    <span>standards</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do appreciate the effort," Valerius murmured, languidly leaning back against him, his head nestled under his chin. Surprisingly enough, the thing stayed in place. "Perhaps you simply need more practice. Though I will require a few drinks before your next attempt. For my own peace of mind, you understand."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Am I allowed to drink with you, or do I have to bring you a few </span>
  <em>
    <span>bottles</span>
  </em>
  <span> for that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorted. "I suppose my standards would be lower if I can't actually feel anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I dunno - knowing you, they might be higher."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio had idly draped his arms around him again, and after a moment he turned in them to face him with a slight smile, shaggy half-braid and all. He leaned in to press a kiss to his lips, greeted by a near immediate pressure against his thigh for his trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.. he supposed that was a long enough break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Valerius hummed and allowed one hand to lazily drift downwards, lightly stroking him as he pulled back, Lucio's head automatically bobbing forward to chase his lips, arching into his hand with a low, needy moan. Whatever hurt he had apparently felt was long gone, replaced by raw desire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"In the meantime," He practically purred against the Count's lips. "Would you like to make it </span>
  <em>
    <span>messier</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gods, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
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